


a little bit everyday

by teatales



Series: sweet and soft [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Asexual Relationship, Bathing/Washing, Bisexual Harry Potter, Discussions of Masculinity, Established Relationship, Families of Choice, Family, Fluff, Friendship, Grief/Mourning, Intervention, Lesbian Ginny Weasley, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Naked Cuddling, No Sex, Praise Kink, References to Addiction, References to Depression, Ron Weasley Fan Club, Ron Weasley-centric, Therapy, can that be our new tag seriously im dying out here, do i write fanfic in a quasi screenplay style? Who's to say, even though they're not married Harry IS a Weasley you can't tell me otherwise, it's not at all relevant here but it's true, might as well use my degree for something
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-06-28 17:48:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19817389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teatales/pseuds/teatales
Summary: Harry finally decides to do something about Ron's mental health, with the help from a few of their friends.Or, the intervention fic.





	a little bit everyday

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fandom0fun0time](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fandom0fun0time/gifts).



> Fandom0fun0time's comment on one of my other works about Ron having mental health stuff that needs to be addressed was the inspiration for this fic. Thank you!
> 
> Title from Hozier's Someone New cause I'm lazy. 
> 
> I'm not super happy with this fic, but I did promise myself and y'all that I would update something once a month, so here it is. Having two jobs is not conductive to fic writing, let me tell you.
> 
> You don't need to read any of the other parts of this series to understand this work, it isn't really in line with the canon I'm building - just another instance of nonsexual intimacy :)

A lot of people had assumptions about Harry and Ron’s relationship. Much of this had to do with the variety of nonsense that the papers had published about them over the years. Although most of the people that relied on _The Prophet_ for information about Harry and Ron didn’t really know them at all, they still _felt_ like they did. Even some extended family and acquaintances thought they knew everything from half-truths to outright lies, just because they had read or heard it somewhere. 

Harry had somehow managed to retain a lot of his privacy since the war ended. He retreated to Grimmauld Place and threw himself into renovations and Auror training. He barely saw Hermione and Ron, let alone the rest of their friends or extended family. Ministry functions or media appearances weren’t even considered. Even when he overcame his self-imposed isolation, addressed his mental illness and started going to therapy, Harry was still pretty private. The media never got to know the _real_ Harry because he never let them. 

People made assumptions. That Harry was the _Chosen One_ , the perfect Gryffindor; strong and capable and brave and sure. And who was Ron compared to that? Some blood-traitor kid with too many siblings _clearly_ mooching off the-boy-who-lived-twice. It was obvious.

It was hard, for both of them, to have these expectations on them. Especially when they were so far from their reality. Their relationship was solid and equal, but Harry was definitely the one who, more often than not, needed to be taken care of - particularly in the early days. Among their close inner circle this also seemed be the standard. Harry was still in recovery from dying, from his childhood, from his Dreamless Sleep addiction, from everything. On the other hand, Ron “emotional range of a teaspoon” Weasley was always _fine._ Wasn’t he?

***

Despite Harry’s well-documented obliviousness, he knew that his boyfriend wasn’t as okay as he pretended to be. Ron had had to be so strong for so long - for Harry, for his family, for himself. He tended to bottle things up, and brushed off questions of concern with tight smiles and shaky hands. He still had nightmares, but they all did. Around anniversaries he seemed to collapse in on himself, slept late, went through the motions only because he felt he had to. But the pretending was too good, sometimes. Harry got caught up in Ron’s attention to him and work at the shop and their various family commitments and his wellbeing seemed to fall to the wayside. Ron didn’t like him fussing or worrying or acting too concerned. He especially didn't like talking about _feelings._ But Harry refused to sit by and do nothing any longer. He had to out strategise the strategist. 

***

In any kind of situation that required a plan or even basic forethought, Hermione was who Harry would go to. He wasn’t _quite_ sure if his idea was grounded in reality however, and Hermione had already spent so much of her time talking Harry down from ridiculous notions, so he thought he better check with his therapist. Or at least, get her opinion on the viability of his plan.

“So what do you think, Emily? Is it completely ridiculous?” 

Emily took off her glasses to look at Harry. 

“No, Harry, it’s certainly not the most ridiculous idea you’ve ever come up with,” she shook her head fondly. “And if you truly believe this is the only way to get Ron to start taking his mental health seriously, I would encourage you to pursue it. But really think on it, Harry. About how it will make Ron feel. Think back to when others have confronted you about your problems, and prepare accordingly.” 

“Of course.” Harry grinned as the wheels begun to turn in his mind. 

***

Harry apparated into Hermione’s flat and felt the familiar lift and closure of the wards around him. 

“I’m in here!,” she called from the kitchen, and after he removed his shoes Harry followed the sound of her voice. 

Hermione stood barefoot in a pair of dungarees and a large jumper, surrounded by various receptacles of… tea? While she filled out an oversized table that she held on a clipboard. She turned around as Harry entered and beamed at him, putting her equipment to the side and meeting him for a hug. He returned it, and held her close for a long while before he kissed the top of her head and let go. 

“Hey, Hermione. What’s all this about, then?” 

“Oh, Harry! When you wrote to me about Ron I couldn’t help but start thinking about small things to help improve his daily mental health and I read this study about the effectiveness of teas, but it was fairly small and also Muggle so I talked to Draco about it - no I didn’t mention what it was for, don’t even suggest it, I _can_ be discreet you know - and so I began my own research,” she gestured to the crowded bench-tops and cloud of steam that hovered above them.

This was definitely not what Harry had been expecting. “That’s… great, Hermione. I was wondering if we could talk about that? If your study isn’t too time sensitive.” 

“Of course! Let me just finish this one thing and I’ll be all yours. That’s freshly boiled if you want some,” she gestured over her shoulder to a small teapot in the corner. “It’s just standard black tea for the control, nothing else in it.” 

Harry was never one to turn down a cup of tea. He was as familiar with Hermione’s kitchen as he was his own, and he had no trouble finding a clean mug or the milk to make it. He left Hermione to tidy up the experiment and sat at the dining table to wait for her, while he continued to think about Ron. 

Hermione joined him after a few minutes with her own cup, her dark brown hands wrapped around it for warmth. She sat down in the chair next to Harry and tucked her bare feet under her. They sat in silence for a while, each sipping their tea. Hermione was clearly waiting for Harry to speak, as he was the one who approached her in the first place. He reached out a hand across the table and she squeezed it gently. She smiled at him encouragingly before he spoke. 

“So. Let’s plan my boyfriend an intervention, shall we?” 

Hermione rolled her eyes fondly at him. 

“I know you mentioned in your letter, but you really think this is the best way, Harry? I mean I know Ron, but you live with him. Don’t you think it might... blow up in our faces?” She used one hand to give the universal gesture for explosion. 

It was Harry's turn to roll his eyes. “Of course I’ve thought about it, Hermione. But I talked to Emily about it, and now I’m talking to you about it, and I’ve thought it over a lot. I’ve tried _gently_ suggesting that he should talk about how he’s feeling, I’ve talked to his siblings about it. Nothing one-on-one is sticking, he can just brush us off. There’s obviously the chance that he might storm out or whatever but I really don’t know what to do anymore. And he’s getting worse,” his voice broke on the admission. “I hate seeing him like this.” 

“Oh, Harry,” she said softly. “You’re right, of course you’re right." She straightened up and a determined look crossed her face. "Okay, well, to come up with a solution we need to understand what the problem is. So how about you tell me what you’ve tried and we’ll see what hasn’t been working and go from there, yes?” Harry nodded and Hermione pulled out her wand, summoning various papers and stationary that she thought they needed. 

Once ready, Harry searched his mind for where to begin. He couldn’t think of a logical, linear way to tell the story, so he started with what he had been noticing about Ron. The days where his mood would shift, when he would become restless for seemingly no reason. His nightmares, like they all had, that he refused to talk about, refused to acknowledge. The constant brushing off of Harry, claiming that he was “fine”. Harry knew it had a lot to do with the Weasleys. He loved their family, but Ron had always had a lot of expectations placed on him. Harry still didn’t know how to navigate that dynamic.

There were also things no one really talked about at all. The expectations of what a man, a _wizard_ should be like. Ron’s self-esteem issues, which Harry unknowingly first got a glance of in the Mirror of Erised. 

At this point Harry trailed off, unsure as to how long he had been speaking or if it had made any sense. He glanced over to Hermione’s notes, which seemed to take the form of several interconnected charts and lists. She finished her final point before meeting Harry’s eyes and clearing her throat. 

“Thank you, Harry, that was... enlightening. Do you want my conclusions now, or…” she trailed off sheepishly at the volume of notes she had produced. Sometimes the confidence she had built over the years in regards to her intellect was hard to find.

“Yeah, please. Um, just let me grab another cuppa. D’you want one?” He offered as he got up from his chair.

She shook her head in reply, eyes already drifting back to the paper covered table. 

***

Harry returned and Hermione reached for the top of the stacks. 

“So, I’ve identified three main areas where Ron issues seem to be originating or that they’re being exacerbated by. The first is family. 

“We both know what the Weasleys are like. They’re pretty… traditional, shall we say, gender-wise, and they’ve always encouraged Ron to look out for Ginny, and then you. He’s had such a strong and consistent message to look after those around him, but the same can’t be said of himself. 

“And this leads into gender. I don’t think it’s quite obvious, but there’s a general societal pressure to be fine, because he’s a man and can’t have emotions,” she rolled her eyes at the idea. “There’s probably also some stuff to do with his sexuality, although I’m not sure how extensive that is. Again, that ties into masculinity." Harry had thought about this a lot, too. As a bi man, and Harry Potter, he experienced so many conflicting opinions on how masculine he was or should be. This had been a recurring theme throughout his life, even before he knew all the fancy words Hermione used. In reality he was actually pretty feminine, or at least, he would like to be. It was hard to overcome society's bullshit, though. He didn't really know how Ron felt about it. 

“Finally there are his own expectations of himself. We both know that Ron has often felt overlooked or underachieving compared to those around him, and I don’t think struggling mentally would be something he could address with confidence. And all of these overlap like here,” she passed over a piece of paper. 

Harry processed her words as he looked it over. It made sense, of course it did. It was Hermione. 

Harry looked back up at his friend. “But how can we help him? You said if we understand the problem we have the solution, but I don’t know what to do with any of this.” He held up the paper for emphasis. 

“Well, Harry, since we’re planning an intervention as you’ve taken to call it, I would say we find people in Ron’s life that can specifically address the topics we’ve identified and see if they’re willing to participate.” 

He nodded. “Alright.” 

*** 

An hour and several cups of tea later, they had the detailed outline of the plan. 

***

Harry apparated to the alley across the street from the park where he was meeting Luna. Although Harry had had some of the benefits of fame, most people growing up thought he was weird. That as well as his difficult childhood meant that he and Luna had a lot more in common than people thought. He appreciated her insightfulness and her authenticity, and he felt lucky that they had remained friends throughout all of their years. 

Sometimes when they hung out they would bake, or garden with Neville, or paint. Harry was never encouraged to be creative - creativity being too close to being feminine which had been a big no-no in his youth, but Luna helped him explore this side of him. But today they were meeting here because Luna wanted to observe some bowtruckles she swore resided in the juniper at the park’s border. 

Harry crossed the road and walked down the main path. The park wasn’t too big to be be super popular, but it had enough space for plenty of seating and more secluded spots to talk. It was easy to spot Luna, crouched down next to a bush in a pale pink and yellow dress, her pale hair shining in the sun.

Harry approached carefully, not wanting to scare Luna or the creatures she was watching. She had always had a sense for Harry, though, and greeted him before she turned around. She beamed up at him and joined their hands before she tucked herself under his chin. Harry was pretty short, but Luna was smaller, and they fit perfectly together. They hugged for a long time before separating. 

“Hey, Luna. How are the bowtruckles today?” 

“Oh, just wonderful Harry, although I haven’t spotted any yet. They’re very tricky, you know." She gave him a knowing look. "But you would clearly rather talk about Ron, wouldn’t you?”

Harry of course had his boyfriend and the upcoming intervention in mind, but hadn’t gone into seeing Luna with the hopes of advice. She read him better than anyone, though, even better than Hermione sometimes. 

He gave a half-shrug. “I suppose I would. Can we walk, then?” 

Luna tucked her arm in Harry’s as they set off on the nearest path. 

“...even though it’s the risk I’m taking, I’m still worried that it’ll all… blow up in my face, y’know? That I’ll be… pushing Ron away, somehow. Even though I’m doing this _because_ I want him to be okay with being more open with me.” 

Luna sighed. “Obviously people are unpredictable, so you can’t necessarily know entirely what Ron’s reaction will be. But he’s not going to breakup with you over this, Harry.” 

Harry stopped mid-stride and looked toward Luna in surprise. He hadn’t really said anything about Ron ending their relationship, but isn’t that what all of his insecurities came down to? 

“You’re right, of course. Thanks Luna. Now enough about me, tell me about your trip to Peru.” 

Luna smiled and tugged Harry to keep walking. “Well, South America is quite interesting this time of year. The salamanders are heading into the breeding season, and there has been a lot of drama during the courtship rituals… ” 

*** 

Ron had had a fairly relaxed day at work, but looked forward to getting home and putting his feet up. Maybe he would be lucky enough for Harry to have made a cake to replace the one Teddy had finished off a few days ago. He apparated in and toed off his shoes to leave them by the front door. He was a bit distracted at the thought of Harry’s baking, but not distracted enough to ignore the sounds of hush voices coming from the living room. 

He slowly walked into the doorway and stopped at the sight of his friends and family sitting on their sofa and chairs. They all attempted some kind of comforting half smile, except Malfoy - so something about this was normal at least. Ron opened his mouth to speak but then closed it, unsure as to what he could possibly say. He turned to face Harry who had been standing off to the side, hesitant, as he had taken all this in. 

“Um, surprise?” Harry offered, mentally thanking his past self for convincing Ginny out of making an ‘intervention’ banner to hang on the wall. 

“Surprise what, Harry? My birthday isn’t for another three months and you all look far too serious for some kind of celebration.” 

Ginny rolled her eyes in frustration. “It’s an intervention, Ronald!” 

Ron looked at his sister in disbelief. Hermione chastised her for the outburst before she glanced at Harry apologetically. 

Harry moved carefully toward Ron, almost as if he were a spooked creature that would bolt at any moment. He guided Ron to sit on the chair facing the gathered crowd, before he moved to his own off to the side. He was close enough to touch Ron, and reached out his hand in offering. 

Ron grabbed it, craving the comfort in the confronting situation. 

“What Ginny was trying to say,” Harry glared sideways at her, “is that we, as your family and friends,” Draco interrupted with a delicate cough, “and acquaintances care about you a lot. But we’re really worried, Ron. About you and your mental health. And this, yes, _intervention_ is to show that we’re here for you and we support you and you’re not alone.” 

Harry squeezed Ron’s hand before continuing, not giving him a chance to speak. “Hermione?” 

Hermione nodded in reply. “Thank you, Harry. I’ll repeat the guidelines as a reminder for those who may have forgotten in the short time since I shared them," Ginny looked at her innocently, "and for you, Ron, so you know how this will happen. 

“First, this is a safe space. We are here for the benefit of our friend Ron, and in order to facilitate this we may choose to share vulnerable or personal details about ourselves. They are to remain in this room, between the people present. Privacy is of the utmost importance. 

“Two, respect. Continuing on, please let everyone have their time to speak. It is preferred if we didn’t have interruptions and that you save any questions you have for the end. Let’s get started, shall we?”

*** 

Ron wasn’t sure what to think. Part of him wanted to disappear, to get a portkey to somewhere far, far away from his living room and the people that had gathered there. It was embarrassing, to need this, to have this much attention on him. He didn’t really _need_ it, anyway. He was… fine. He was fine, and he was a grown wizard, and he should truly set about leaving the “intervention” that instant. 

He glanced at Harry, and it felt like someone had reached into his chest and squeezed his heart in their fist. He looked at him with such concern and love. It was so openly written across his face. And that was the problem, wasn’t it? That when Ron even skirted around the idea of being _not_ okay, he ran away. Ignored it. Pushed it to the side. Even when Harry - beautiful, sweetest Harry - nudged him to talk, to share. Harry, who Ron rationally knew had been through so much, including his addiction, was capable of being so _honest_ , with himself and with Ron. But Ron couldn’t even admit to himself, let alone the love of his life, how much he suffered. That gaze and these thoughts kept Ron in his chair and in their flat, like a sticking charm had been cast over him. He turned back to the group, resigned, as Malfoy of all people began to speak. 

Malfoy sent him a withering look before he opened his mouth. Ron felt, more than saw, Harry poke his tongue out in retaliation. 

“Weasley. Although we rarely see eye to eye, I am hear today to speak on what we have in common. I, too, come from a pure-blooded family where traditional notions of masculinity were held in the highest esteem.” Malfoy paused, possibly for dramatic effect, before he continued reading off his parchment. 

“I am sure, and I hope, that our upbringings were vastly different, but I feel that the shared expectations of what a son should do, and say, and act, are not dissimilar. I am a gay man who, as an oblivious, cowardly child signed up for an extremely prejudiced, violent, and ignorant organisation as I felt it was the only way to protect my family. No matter sides, we all went through a war.” He cleared his throat. Malfoy was certainly a git but this… this wasn’t what Ron had expected. Not at all. 

“Consequentially, I have been dealing with the repercussions of the first two decades of my life for the past five years, and not always healthily or well. Thankfully, I had some friends and acquaintances,” Ron, Ginny, and George all coughed in unison and grinned at each other, to which Malfoy rolled his eyes, “who helped me to seek out the help I need, which for me meant therapy and an active pursuit to change my behaviour and habits. I am still learning to live without the shame for needing it, as well as to be… _vulnerable_ ,” his tongue curled around the word in distaste. “I hope this endeavour aids you in the ways which your boyfriend and family wish it to.” 

Malfoy tucked the parchment delicately into his crisply tailored blazer. Everyone looked some degree of uncomfortable except Hermione, who gave her friend a fond, knowing look. Malfoy had a slight blush on the high of his cheekbone and he continued to ignore the others in favour of sipping his tea, which now resided in a much fancier teacup than Ron could ever recall owning. 

Ginny sat up where she was sat in the chair farthest away from Malfoy and brought the room’s attention to her. 

“Although I have always been your much cooler and tougher younger sister, it hasn’t always been easy being this amazing. The whole thing in first year with the fucking Horcrux and then Snakeface trying to take over the world,” she frowned, then huffed out a breath, “and we all know adults never properly helped. I never dealt with anything properly until we graduated. Couldn’t, really, in the middle of the war. But when I saw how reaching out helped Harry,” she glanced towards him, “I decided I didn’t want to live with all of these feelings inside me anymore. Even if you’re an idiot, I still love you.” She folded her arms and poked her tongue out at Ron. He could only smile back.

As if the day couldn’t get any weirder, Hermione was the only one so far in the intervention not to use a pre-written speech. She took a final sip of tea before she looked directly at Ron, and spoke.

“Ron. Usually I’m the one who never runs out of words but all I really have to offer is,” she took a deep breath. “I love you so much. You don’t have to do this alone.” Her eyes were misty, but she smiled. There was a moment of silence before she prompted the man next to her. 

“George?” 

The group all turned towards him to show that they were listening, although Ginny kept her eyes firmly on the ceiling. 

George cleared his throat awkwardly before he slipped a rough looking piece of parchment from his pocket. 

“Obviously we’ve all been through a lot in the past few years slash decade, and I know I haven’t exactly been the most emotionally available person or brother in the world.”

No, no, no. Ron couldn’t bare his brother blaming himself like this. “George-” 

“No, Ron,” he replied firmly. “We all lost Fred. My grief was - is - valid, but shutting you all out wasn’t. Especially when you were suffering, too. And I couldn’t see it. Refused to let myself. But I’m here, now. We all are. We just want you to get better, Ron. Yeah.” He tucked the paper away again and smiled at Ron, briefly, before he looked at Harry.

Harry tugged gently at where their hands were still connected, and Ron turned to face him. He gave another one of those soft, sweet smiles and pulled out a piece of ink splattered parchment. 

He took in a deep breath before he spoke. 

“Ron. You are the first person to have given me a family after my parents died. You were my first friend, and you welcomed me into your home. You’ve stood by me through the worst moments of my life and you never treated me any different for being famous, or bi, or broken,” Harry’s eyes filled with tears and he paused to collect himself. Ron squeezed his hand in encouragement, always in awe of how open Harry could be.

“I’ve loved you since I was twelve years old and you stole a flying car to rescue me and I’ve never stopped since. Through my mental illnesses and recovery you have been the best boyfriend I could’ve asked for and I want you to extend some of that compassion, that kindness, to yourself. I know you’re not okay. You can’t hide that from me, but it is okay that you’re not. And we want you to get better.” 

Ron released a breath he hadn’t realised he had been holding. Merlin, this was a lot to take in.

They all sat in silence for a few moments as the absorbed what Harry had shared. Hermione, though, was determined to keep them on track, and prompted him.

“Ron, did you want to say anything?” she asked. 

It was the least he could do, he figured, after they all had given him so much. 

“Um. Thank you for sharing, everyone. And for coming today and for…caring, so much. I definitely didn’t expect this, at all, really. But,” Ron looked at Harry again, “I appreciate it. And I’ll be keeping your words in mind. But now I would really like to have the evening in with my boyfriend like I had planned.”

Ginny grinned. “I think we can take the hint.” 

***

Ron disappeared into their bathroom as Harry said goodbyes and thank yous, not-too-gently herding their various relations and friends out of the flat. Once he was finally done he glanced around at the mugs and paper and confetti that accrued itself around the living room, before deciding that it could wait and that he should track down his boyfriend. Harry walked into the bedroom, expecting Ron to be pacing or having an angry nap. Instead, the adjoining door to the en-suite was open and he was sitting on the edge of the tub that was slowly filling with water. Harry got to the doorway and stopped. 

“Hey.” 

“Hey, Harry,” Ron answered flatly, not looking up at him. 

Harry shifted from foot to foot, nervous. “Um, I know how annoying it is to be asked if you’re okay and I know I’ve gotten huffy when you’ve asked me that but um-”

“I’m okay,” he cut Harry off and looked up, still not moving from his position. 

“Okay, um. Did you… want to talk about that, then? Or ask me anything?” Harry wrapped his arms tighter around himself, unsure if Ron was upset with him. It was hard to tell, from his reactions in the living room. 

Ron frowned at the gesture, moving to stand and walk towards Harry. “Hey, sweetheart, I am okay. It’s okay, I’m not angry at you or anything, yeah?” He gave Harry time to pull away as he slowly opened his arms and wrapped them around him. 

Harry remained tense for a few moments before he relaxed and grabbed onto Ron, and took in a few rough breaths. Ron seemed to find the courage to speak that he had lacked before while he didn't have to look directly at Harry. 

“I just feel a little silly, love. To have so many wonderful people who care about me, who have gone through or are going through similar things and for me to just not… see that. And although it was a bit confronting to come home to I’m not upset, Harry. How could I be, when you love me so much?” Ron pulled back at that to look at Harry, giving him a small smile and kissing his forehead. 

“But as I’m sure you’re well aware, all that emotional stuff can be draining. So to put a plug in it - ha - will you have a bath with me? Self care and all that, right?” 

Harry was worried about Ron’s blase attitude but trusted him and took him at his word. “Yeah, sure.”

“Great,” Ron kissed him before he turned to the bath and waved his wand to get the water running. As he began to undress Harry followed suit, both of them dumping their clothes on the bathroom chair. Harry sometimes got lonely or worried in the bath, so one day Ron came home with a chair to use so that he could sit by Harry and pet his hair without ruining his knees.

Once they were both naked Ron reached out to Harry, wrapping his arms around him and tucking his head under his chin. They stayed there in comfortable silence before Harry pulled back slightly to look at Ron.

“C’mon, the water will get cold, yeah?” Harry thought it best not to comment on the tears in Ron’s eyes. 

“Yeah, yeah. Come on.”

Ron got in the tub first and settled down at one end before he extended a hand to help Harry in. He sat down in the middle of the tub, facing Ron. Ron just smiled it him, running a hand up and down Harry’s arm before speaking. 

“Come here, sweetheart,” Ron said as he opened his arms for Harry. Harry sunk back slowly into the water, the curve of his back fitting against Ron’s chest. “That’s it. So good for me,” Ron murmured into the nape of Harry’s neck. “So good, taking care of me like that,” he sighed, relaxing further into the edge of the bath. 

Harry felt his face flush, and not just from the charmed heat of the water. Being so vulnerable with another person - naked, trusting Ron with his back, his body - on top of the praise left him tingling all over. He hid his face as best he could, half curled into Ron. 

Ron ran his hand slowly up and down Harry’s front in broad strokes, encouraging him to settle close. 

“Just what I need, a bath with my wonderful boyfriend,” Ron kissed the top of Harry’s head to punctuate his statement. 

As they both sank into the water and relaxed, silence settled over them once more. Harry’s breath began to match Ron’s repetitive movements, and his eyes fell closed in contentment. He wasn’t sure how long it was before Ron spoke again. 

“You’re right, you know. You all are. Although for the love of Merlin don’t tell Malfoy that, what a git,” he paused to compose himself. “That I’m not… okay, really. Haven’t been for a long while now.” Ron appeared to drift off there, but Harry didn’t rush him. Just waited until he continued speaking. 

“But I couldn’t admit it to myself, I guess. You weren’t fine, and it’s not as if you were telling me that I had to be the stable one in this relationship, but _I_ felt I had to. And so many people, I mean they were well meaning, but still, kept reminding me that I had to look after you, take care of you, and I didn’t know how I could do that if I couldn’t keep _myself_ together,” he paused again, pressing his face into Harry’s hair and taking in a few shuddering breaths. 

“I couldn’t let myself, I wouldn’t allow it. But we both know what happens when you bottle things up, hmm? So although I don’t quite approve of methods, it was effective, Harry. And needed to be done. Thank you. I'll try to be better at sharing, going forward.” 

Harry sat up more, his cheek pressed against Ron’s. Ron wrapped his arms around Harry’s waist to hold him close. 

“I love you, Ron. Let’s take care of each other, yeah?” 

“Sounds good to me.”

**Author's Note:**

> If any of the themes in this work have negatively impacted you, please reach out to someone. Here's a list of international resources that may be of use: https://togetherweare-strong.tumblr.com/helpline 
> 
> As always if you enjoyed this fic, please let me know! Regardless of when this fic was posted, I read every single comment and would love to hear your thoughts.


End file.
